


The Twins of Greywater Watch

by Helixay



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arthur Dayne and Gerold Hightower live, Arya Snow is his twin, Ashara Lives, Aunt/Nephew Incest, BAMF Arya Stark, BAMF Jon Snow, But dragons are game-breakers, Dark Jon Snow, Direwolves are awesome, Expect grey characters, F/F, F/M, Greywater Watch is the perfect place to hide Targryens, Handwave the timline for their age, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon and Arya have different looks and personality, Multi, Skewed ages and personalities, Somewhat OP Twins, They are 3 years older than canon Jon, Threesome - F/F/M, Time Beyond-the-Wall, Twincest, Wargs, and Essos, lots of magic, not all characters have canon compliants attributes or ages, not sure what to do with them, so suggestions are welcome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21567412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helixay/pseuds/Helixay
Summary: What if Jon had a supportive twin and grew up in a grittier yet nurturing environment? What if Ned Stark's "Honor before Reason" policy never took root in Jon?Jon and Arya grow up together with Meera, Allyria and others. They learn magic, lizard-lion-riding, hunting, and good ruling. Arthur, Howland and Gerold Hightower are their mentors.Follow their adventures in the Neck, Winterfell, Starfall, Beyond-the-Wall, and Essos before they reclaim their rightful place.PS: I am so mad at the show for making the cunning and ruthless Book!Jon into Ned 2.0 and "I dun wan it", "Ya r ma quin".
Relationships: Arianne Martell/Daemon Sand, Arianne Martell/Jon Snow, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Jaehaerys Targaryen(Jon Snow)/Daenerys Targaryen, Jaehaerys Targaryen/Aerea(Arya Snow) Targaryen, Jon Snow/Arya Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow/Arya Snow/Meera Reed, Jon Snow/Arya Stark, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Jon Snow/Undisclosed, Jon Snow/Val, Tyene Sand/Jon Snow
Comments: 164
Kudos: 171





	1. Prologue - A different Tower of Joy.

"Ser Arthur" spoke the woman fated to die in a few minutes.

Arthur Dayne turned to take a look at the woman and children Rhaegar had bet his own life and thousands of others upon. Princess Lyanna Stark looked pale. Well, paler than usual and drowning in a bed of blood. The bed of childbirth. Such was the cruel fate of some women in a society with the barest understanding of biology and medicine. To look at the life they brought into this world with hours and hours of excruciating pain yet never getting to seem them grow and live.

Despite the pain, she looked the happiest he had ever seen her, with two bundles of joys in her arms. The twins. Their very existence proved everything Rhaegar said to be false. Not deliberately, but either he was misled or he misinterpreted the omens and prophecies. _Where is the Visenya you were so convinced of Rhaegar?_ Yet, right now, it did not matter.

"Yes, your grace?"

"Promise me, Arthur, that you would keep them safe. Promise me that you would do everything to never let them come to harm. I do not care about that cursed throne or the crown, I just want my Jaehaerys and Aerea safe. Please Arthur" Her voice was as weak as she looked yet she clung to life like a babe to his mother's teats. _All my life I have been fighting and killing. And defending. To overcome any and all challenges. As a Knight. As a Kingsguard. Yet, no amount of training could prepare me for this challenge. A challenge that Dawn is useless against. How do you refuse a dying woman's last wish to keep her children safe when that same wish clashes with a Kingsguard's duty to see the rightful heir on the throne? A path undoubtedly frought with danger and deceit and death. How?"_

When Arthur didn't reply immediately, she spoke again. "Please Arthur, do not make me beg." She looked steadily worse and both knew her end was near.

"Lya....I.....thin..." A shrill cry from the Princess Aerea distracted everyone in the room. As if sensing the Stranger approaching his mother and his twin's distress, King Jaehaerys also started to cry. Lyanna attempted to soothe them but she didn't have much strength left after the harrowing ordeal she just underwent.

After sending one more pleading glance Arthur's way, the light in her eyes dimmed.

And thus died Princess Lyanna of Houses Stark and Targaryen. The half-centaur. The maiden-reborn. The Winter Rose.

And whatever Ser Arthur's response was going to be, died on his tongue. Even he didn't know.

As if sensing the death of their mother, the twins wailing reached new heights. Their way of showing grief. They would cry themselves to sleep that day.

Just then, Oswell Whent, the more fanatical of the Kingsguard entered the tower.

"Ser Arthur, we see seven riders approaching fast. They maybe Eddard Stark's merry band of misfits, here to rescue the Princess from the clutches of the demonic dragons." He jested. Ser Arthur turned sharply at that and pinned the dark-humored knight with the gaze of the deadliest warrior in the realm. Oswell visibly squirmed under the Sword of the Morning's stare.

"Um...never mind" Oswell fumbled and fidgeted nervously.

Ser Arthur went towards the stairs and exited the tower swiftly without saying a word. Oswell gave the children and their mother as sorrowful gaze. He recalled that if Rhaegar had not been so stubborn and refused Starfall's maester to maintain utmost secrecy, Lyanna may have yet lived. He followed Ser Arthur and left behind two wailing children.

***

"So, she's dead."

Lord Commander Gerold Hightower was a man of few words. He also happened to be the most well-read and most experienced member of the Kingsguard. Ser Gerold was blessed to have both a strong body, and a sharp mind even in his relatively advanced age of 48 name-days.

Ser Arthur merely nodded and knew the response was received. After Rhaegar, Arthur was the person Lyanna was closest to in the months following her "abduction". An abduction which was in truth a rescue. Aerys was smarter than he appeared and after returning to King's Landing from that blasted tourney had put together the clues available. Yet, Aerys was Aerys and assumed that the Starks were conspiring against him(true for once) and sent a party to arrest and bring her to the capital. Rhaegar couldn't let that happen, since it was his actions that brought dishonor and the spotlight upon her. And everything went downhill from there.

* * *

Lord Eddard Stark, the man who lost the most in this war, dismounted his horse with his 5 companions. He unsheathed his greatsword, Ice, and stabbed it into the ground. Some fool had once said Ice to be too unwieldy, he must not have handled any greatswords. Especially valyrian steel greatswords. He surveyed the men standing in front of him and looked at his own companions.

All looked weary. The Kingsguard from the Dornish heat and low supplies in this abandoned tower and Ned's wraiths from a long and hard ride. It was then he realized that Howland Reed was missing.

Howland Reed the enigma extraordinaire. Ashara's husband, Meera's father, Arthur's good-brother, messenger of the Old Gods and member of the Green Men.

_Is he going to betray me? When did he break off from our group?_

_No, this situation is making me paranoid. Besides why would he tell me to be prepared to be surprised and about his daughter's birth if he was going to betray me? There is little sense in telling the wolf to be wary if you are going to ambush him. There is something else at work here. Something I am sure I am not going to like._

It was then Lord Eddard noticed that the birds were chirping louder than before, the air felt much more humid which shouldn't be possible in this desert. It made him want to take of his mail and gambeson. He almost pities the Kingsguard in their full plate armor.

There was a foreboding atmosphere as if the world itself was holding its breath.

And then came the soft, singing chant from a man. Like a fast moving stream in the wolfswood or the rustle of leaves in the godswood. A man carrying a weird trident with blood-red veins running up its length in a twisting way. It took him moment to recognize that three-pronged spear. Howland's. _But his didn't have the blood-red twisting lines or did I merely never notice?_

What was more worrying was his eyes. Normally a very rare deep green, now they were glowing and seemed to be restraining something. When Ned looked around, he noticed everyone was frozen in shock, just like him. And the terrain had suddenly changed from the reddish-yellow of the desert to......water with strong vines that came from nowhere and bound everyone.

It all happened so fast. The shock of that queer trident in the hands of a short man with glowing eyes and weird atmosphere moments before Ned found himself bound. For a moment, just a moment, Ned thought himself to be hallucinating or dreaming, yet, the sharp thorns on the vines brought him back.

He looked around and saw that Ser Arthur and the White Bull both seemed to have already accepted their fate while Oswell only looked on with morbid curiosity and a flicker of fear. Dawn was still sheathed with Arthur's arms restrained and Ice seemed to be somewhere in this impromptu water-and-vine prison.

Everyone was speechless. And for good reason. It's not everyday that the weakest person in the group manages to whip out a magical feat and manages to restrain 10 proven warriors as if it was nothing.

But it wasn't nothing, was it?

The strain was showing on Howland's face and both Dawn and Ice seemed to emit an aura that kept the water and vines at bay. Interesting. _Maybe Howland overestimated himself or he is playing 4-D cyvasse while the rest of us are stuck in this smelly, tentacle infested pool. At least the water is keeping the heat at bay in this desert._

 _And finally the man of the hour deigns to speak._ Mused Oswell.

Howland's voice was like a thousand corpses trying to speak at the same time. Or a thousand-year old corpse. Whichever was creepier.

What Howland spoke of on that day would forever be etched in the minds of the 10 people there. He outed Ethan Glover as the rat who survived where his companions died because he told Aerys of Rickard's Southern Ambitions with Hoster Tully and Jon Arryn. He spoke of Petyr Baelish's vengeance against the Starks by intentionally goading Brandon with an exaggerated story and enraging the Wild Wolf. He spoke of the immorality of Kingsguard's vows and the foolishness of the three White Swords present to follow Rhaegar's orders (to let no one enter) when their King needed them to live. He spoke of how Ashara had faked her death with her daughter Meera and was waiting for her brother, sans Dawn(too recognizable). He spoke of Daenerys and Viserys needing protection and so Oswell was dispatched post-haste. He spoke of oaths and honor and righteousness and the coming winter and death. And how the realm needed to be united to face it. That bit, more than anything convinced the three Kingsguard to stay their hand as Rhaegar often spoke of the the coming catastrophe.

In the end possessed-Howland's speech had convinced Ned and Arthur to let Aerea and Jaehaerys to grow with the Reeds as Ned Stark's bastards sired on Ashara Dayne and be legitimized when the time came. Gerold and Arthur would dye their hair, grow full beards and intentionally scar their faces and leave for the Neck via sea immediately. Oswell was sent to DragonStone to inform Viserys and Rhaella about more family being alive(yet keeping the identities secret) and fleeing to Essos on Rhaella's orders. When the men left for their own objectives, they all had sworn a vow to seat Jaehaerys on the throne and to keep everything that happened at ToJ a secret until the King gave them leave. Mark Ryswell, Wylis Manderly, Martyn Cassel, Willam Dustin, Oswell Whent, Gerold Hightower, Arthur Dayne and Howland Reed all took a vow more sacred than any. All of them carried a bleeding-heart-tree tattoo on their wrist. A measure taken to ensure their loyalty. It would kill them the moment they resolved to broke their vow.

All except Ethan Glover. The Rat who died squealing as the vines asphyxiated him. A fitting end.

With the White Swords departed, Ned left for Starfall to return Dawn and Wylla.

* * *

Arathorn Dayne, Lord of Starfall and Arthur's older brother was already aware of Lyanna and Rhaegar's foolishness. For Arthur's sake he had sent Wylla to the Tower of Joy but no maester since Rhaegar didn't trust the maester. The fool he was. Maester Iroh had been serving the Daynes for decades, his loyalty was unquestionable. Loyalty of any servant at Starfall was unquestionable because Starfall was an isolated and difficult to reach island and thus all the servants and guards had families that served the Daynes generation after generation. Sons following fathers as guards and household knights and daughters following mothers as maids, serving wenches or cooks. They were trustworthy.

He agreed to do his part in this cover-up and proposed Jaehaerys and Aerea to visit Starfall once a year to add another layer of protection for the twins. If the realm saw the twins being treated as family by the inhabitants of Starfall it would only cement their belief that Ashara was their mother. And his youngest sister, Allyria, would get to have playmates her age and know her brother, a (disguised) Arthur.

***

When Ned saw his nephew and niece for the first time, his anger towards Lyanna and Howland lessened greatly. Jaehaerys resembled Ned's brother Brandon in everything except that little tuft of silver hair on his widows peak, the rest being black and one of his eyes was Rhaegar's deep indigo while the other was the Stark grey. Aerea, on the other hand resembled Lyanna in everything except height, it was clear she was going to favor her father in that. Lithe and slim with the same mismatched eyes and streak of silver hair as her twin. The twins looked like a mirror reflection of each other. So much so that it was difficult to tell them apart until they were 10 namedays old when Jaehaerys shot up like a reed(get it?) and Aerea started developing breasts and curves.

On his way to Kings Landing, Ned was thanking the old gods for House Dayne. For if Aerea and Jon had inherited the traditional Targaryen coloring, alarms would be raised. And no matter how much people believed the honorable Ned Stark, someone was going to put the clues together. House Dayne was mysterious, had dashing people and generally had mismatched hair like raven-and-silver, brown and silver, blonde and silver. Gerold Dayne, Ulritch Dayne, even Ashara had 2 different colors. The only Targaryen in recent memory with hair like Jaehaerys and Aerea was Valarr Targaryen with light brown hair and a streak of silver through it, hopefully no one would look too deeply into it. And Ulritch's idea of letting the twins spend some time at Starfall would be an extra layer of security.

Ned and the northern lords never quite forgave Howland for forcing him to break his oath to his childhood friend and new King. In his heart of hearts, he knew he loved Robert more than he did Brandon or Lya or his father. After all, Robert was the brother he chose when his own family seemingly discarded him. But the death of Aegon and Rhaenys was fresh on his mind and the bleeding-weirwood-tatoo, the WeirMark, a stark reminder of the price of betrayal. He had to give it to Howland or whatever entity that had possessed Howland, that they covered their tracks well and clearly could plan well.

***

Eddard would gather the twins and his escort and ride for King's Landing to inform Robert of Lyanna's death and introduce the world to his bastards. He didn't tell anyone of their mother. Let them speculate. Let them feel clever for thinking they figured out the identity of the woman who made Ned Stark dishonor himself. With Ashara having faked her death, there was no one left to pester but Ned. And asking him was like asking the Wall to melt.

Now Ned only had to face his good-family and wife with his triplet children. Robb, Sansa and Brandon. And inform them about his presumed bastards. Easy stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Here Ned didn't fight as strongly for Jon and Arya's wardship because he never made that promise to Lyanna.  
> 2\. Some people would think I made Howland OP. While his powers are certainly powerful, he needs prep-time and a secret ingredient. He was gone from Ned's party for an unknown time, Ned and the Kingsguard had their dick-measuring contest for a while and Howland foresaw all this. Prep-time for magic users is the "I win" button.  
> 3\. There is a theory that Ashara faked her death to save Jon's secret and went to live with Howland. I like it, you don't have to.  
> 4\. Arya and Jon are 3 years older than canon. Hand-wave the timeline for how this is possible.  
> 5\. Replaced Tho Wull as one of Ned's companions from canon with Wylis Manderly for plot reasons.  
> 6\. English is my 4th language, any edits and suggestions are welcome but rude and disrespectful ones would be defenestrated.  
> 7\. Reviews and comments are welcome. I even welcome plot-suggestions but I would like to remind you that you are free to read other, better-written fanfiction and you aren't doing me a favor by reading this. A beta-reader would be appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Riverrun, 283 AC**

**Catelyn  
**

Catelyn Stark was worried and fretting. He husband had yet to return.

It had been several weeks since a raven came announcing Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister's wedding. It had a sidenote that informed them Lord Eddard Stark had left to lift the siege of Storm's End and look for his sister. Since then Greatjon Umber led the Northern host past the Twins and to the North. He told them he had been given command of the host and tasked with leading the men back to the north. She had hoped Ned would be with them. He wasn't.

A few days after the Greatjon's departure, she went into labor and delivered three healthy babes. Robb, Brandon and Sansa. She had been deliriously happy with the news yet the seven were cruel and the next news brought a lot of disappointment.

Maester Vyman told her that it was a very difficult birth(as if she needed to be told) and conceiving another child would not only be inadvisable but probably fatal. She had always hoped for children, a lot of them, yet this news completely dashed it. Even so, she was content. She had given her husband an heir, a spare and a daughter for alliances.

That's where her problems began and anxiety crept in.

 _What if something happened to Ned and he didn't return? What if Benjen claimed her children bastards and usurped Robb's rightful place?_ She had never met Benjen as he was the acting Lord of Winterfell during the war and her children all looked like Tullys, not a single drop of Northern blood visible in them. Worse, she had only spent a single night with Ned and he was off to war. She had been lucky to conceive triplets on her first try yet it wasn't hard to imagine Benjen claiming that she laid with another man while her husband was off to war. Even worse, most of the Northern Lords had grumbled when her father, Hoster Tully, had strong-armed Ned into marrying Catelyn in exchange for an army. If Benjen promises to marry a Manderly or a Karstark or an Umber, which the lords would prefer to a southern fish, then her position was precarious indeed.

 _Oh Father, Mother, Warrior please keep my husband safe. For my children's sake._ She prayed.

* * *

The gate creaked open and Brynden Tully entered her room. His usual grumpy face had a small smile.

"Cat, we saw six riders approach. They were flying direwolf banners" He said plainly.

"Do you think my Lord husband is with them, uncle?" She asked hopefully.

"He probably is. Don't worry too much. Ned Stark is battle-hardened, he will be fine" He said with certainty in his voice.

***

A while later, a maid peeked in.

"Milday your husband and father sent for you. They are in the Lord's solar."

Catelyn turned and said, " Oh thank the Seven. You can be on your way Milly, I will be there soon." She turned towards the Blackfish and said, "Uncle, are you coming?". He merely grunted and nodded.

That day she presented her husband with his children and saw the wondrous and joyful look on his face. He lost so much of his family to unfortunate circumstances that when she first saw his grim face she was sorely disappointed. Compared to her beloved Brandon, Ned Stark was several inches shorter, less handsome and far too guarded. She feared she would be in for a cold and apathetic marriage, yet seeing him so happy kindled hope that maybe she could find love on her life. Mayhaps not in a sennight or month, but the possibility was there. Children had a way of bringing parents closer, her mother had always said.

When her husband presented his bastards to her, she was not nearly as heartbroken as she thought she would be. She understood that neither of them knew each other and it was war where he could die the next day or minute. He wasn't even unfaithful to her since the bastards were already 3 name-days old and he wasn't married to her when they were conceived. Yet seeing Arya Snow clinging to her brother who stood protectively in front of her with his dark eyes and hair brought forth her insecurities and anxiety. Despite that tuft of silver hair and one indigo eye, the twins looked Northerners and had the Stark dark brown hair and one dark grey eye to match. They were beautiful children. A perfect mix of Dayne and Stark blood.

Oh what she wouldn't give for at least one of her children to have the Stark look. They would be more readily accepted and their paternity not questioned by the Lords. 

At the time she didn't think much of it but the bastard boy was warm to touch, very warm and his bastard sister, cool, bordering on cold. They looked unaffected by the cold, as if winter was simply a word. She had dismissed that as being of Northern blood for the girl and having a fever for the boy. 

When she asked about their mother, Ned completely shut her down and refused to speak even her name. Yet there were already rumors that Ned Stark had loved Ashara and she killed herself in grief of losing a still-born daughter and a brother that her lover killed. You only had to take one look at the children and know that Ashara had claimed a piece of Ned's heart and she was never going to have all of it. That brought forth those ugly feelings inside her. That romantic side of her had suffered a painful blow on that day.

Even worse, as if she hadn't had enough bad news to last a lifetime, she and Ned had discussed building a Sept for her in Winterfell before he left for the war. To make the transition easier. Yet her husband shot Howland a look who replied with an equally piercing, undecipherable look and there was no more discussion. No sept and no septa to teach her daughter southern finery. _He had been so agreeable on their wedding night yet his trip to Dorne changed something in him. Or maybe it was the war and his traumatic experience? Her daughter would know about the finer things in life._ She resolved. Yet she knew she couldn't replace a septa's knowledge of the seven or the customs and refined courtesies.

At least the bastards were leaving with Ned's bannerman, Howland Reed, and not be a permanent reminder that she would never have Ned entirely to herself.

When Brandon had died, she had not ate or slept for days and was numb on her wedding day. Even more numb when she saw his superficially inferior brother who didn't look too pleased with the situation himself.

While some dark part of her mind hoped to never see them again, she consoled herself by remembering that they would only spend a few months a year at most in winterfell. 

It would be another 3 years before she saw the twins again.

She spent the entire ride to Winterfell recalling and mulling over the events of the war. Robert's Rebellion, as the maesters called it.

* * *

**The Neck**

Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, perhaps the most famous knight of his time, was thanking the gods for his utterly unremarkable body and face. His younger sister and older brother had inherited the distinguishing Dayne features and some part of him had always been jealous of that. Standing at 5'11 feet tall, just barely above average, with Black hair, brown eyes, and lean build he got off from the small boat he and the White Bull had taken from Sisterton to the eastern side of the Neck. Since Greywater Watch was near impossible to find, Howland had instructed them to land anywhere on the east side of the Neck and wait for crannogmen to escort them to Greywater Watch. The fisherman didn't suspect anything since business was slow and distance not too far from his usual.

Arthur Dayne was a very reserved and disciplined man with a stern visage. His disguise was simple yet effective. He shaved his head, let a fully bushy beard grow and used a dagger to scar his brow. This worked because he was usually recognized by the Kingsguard armor and Dawn or being in the presence of Rhaegar. No one had ever seen him in a beard or shaved. He wasn't a particularly memorable person in the first place. That's how they had found out about Aerys' order to arrest Lyanna, sneaked past the Red Keep and run off with Lyanna before anyone recognized or realised what happened. This was going to be very useful in the coming years.

Gerold Hightower, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard had the opposite problem. He was 6'3 and built like a brick-house with blond hair and brown eyes. He was fond of his beard and hair too. Thankfully, before he became a warrior, he was training to be a maester and was skilled at mummery. Thus, he shaved both his head and beard and changed his accent from a Reach one to a Northern one. The months spent in Dorne with scarce supplies and vast heat had made him weaker than he ever remembered being. Or was it the age? No matter, after looking at his newly acquired scar on the chin, hairless face , weaker body and changed accent, he felt like a new man.

He probably was.

"Arthur?" The new Arthur Dayne turned towards the Lord Commander.

" Yes Lord Commander?"

"Are you ready for learning a new accent?"

"Aye, Lord Commander. There is nothing to do until the crannogmen arrive"

"Put emphasis on your vowels and "r"s. Then we will begin with stage 3." Arthur groaned.

"There's more?" He moaned. Asked the normally stoic and nonchalant Arthur. But after weeks of nothing but saying words and phrases differently had him at his wits end.

Gerold chuckled.

You aren't quite there yet. It should take a couple week of diligent practice and you would sound Northern enough."

Arthur nodded.

* * *

**Queen's Quarters, Red Keep**

Cersei sighed softly and had a smug grin on her face.

Her brother's seed was inside her and Robert would rue the day he decided to continue pining after a dead whore than the most beautiful woman on planetos. She had been so disappointed and enraged when Robert whispered "Lyanna" in her ear before collapsing on the bed without making her peak. She had heard from several women of the court praising Robert's sexual prowess and how several whores worked for free, not even charging him that much. She had been hoping for a King who treated her like the Queen she was. First, Rhaegar and now Robert. There wasn't enough poison in the world for Cersei to feed the wolf whore.

Of course Robert wouldn't match her Jaime in either looks or skill but he could have made an effort. She had never been so insulted as her wedding night.

Her brother, sitting on the bed, was still seething for Ned Stark had labeled him a "Kingslayer" and days later strode into the throne room with 2 bastards and had the gall to call him dishonorable.

Cersei knew Jaime idolized Ser Arthur and being a true knight was his dream but hearing Eddard Stark kill Arthur Dayne without serious wounds had wounded his pride, for Jaime had never beat Ser Aerthur. Not even close. Cersei had used training with Sword of the Morning and Barristan the Bold as incentive when she had persuaded him to join the Kingsguard. Yet the fabled knight was almost always with Rhaegar and frequently chastised Jaime's recklessness and brashness.

And now his idol and honor both lay dead. At the hands of Eddard fucking Stark.

Typical of southerners, Cersei had completely dismissed the Northern host as inconsequential and had urged her father to help out Rhaegar and then win rewards at the end of the war. Yet, to see the finest knight in westeros be beaten and killed handily by a Northern savage had shaken her world-view, just a tiny bit. He must have gotten lucky, she rationalized. That or he or his companions must have tricked the great knight somehow. It was the only thing that made sense.

She heard giggling coming from outside the chambers and could guess what they were blabbering about.

When the air-headed maids of the Red Keep giggled about handsome men, Rhaegar, Robert, Brandon Stark and Jaime Lannister were always the top contenders. Yet seeing as Rhaegar fell to a brute like Robert, Cersei realized he must not have been as great and handsome as she thought. Jaime would have killed the Stag. Easily. Without breaking a sweat. (Not really). That left Brandon Stark. She never saw him, but most of the maids have been working at the Red Keep since before the Rebellion spoke of his fearlessness and easy charisma. For a savage, that is. Seeing how Ned Stark shook her belief in southern knights, there must be some truth in that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in the Neck and a fateful encounter.

**The Neck, 285 AC  
**

5 name-days old Aerea Targaryen was a shy child. Even now, she was hiding behind her mother, Ashara Dayne. The reason for that was the baby lizard-lion that was to be her pet. Her familiar. The little animal looked just as uncomfortable as she felt. It blinked and...

"Arya, look at me!" Came the excited shout of her twin. He still couldn't pronounce Aerea properly and she butchered Jaehaerys even worse. Mama had explained to them that they were lucky and they had two names each. Jon and Jae; Arya and Aerea. But they had to promise to call each other Jae and Aerea only when no one was around. It was their affectionate name for each other. Their own little secret. She had been so happy she even forgot to ask why didn't Meera have two names too?

She came out and saw her brother's familiar looking as bored Ser Gerold at the sides. It was resting in her brother's lap, snoring, and Jon was so excited he wasn't even aware that his pet didn't give two shits. Ser Gerry(Gerold Hightower) always looked uncomfortable whenever Howland, any of the Green Men or other mysterious visitor were near. Aerea didn't know why but she was curious. 

Jon had been playing with his to-be-pet for an hour now. He and Howland came back from visiting a neighboring carnnog and found the abandoned lizard-lions nearby and took them home. 3 Lizard-lions. For Jon and Arya and Meera. Such bonding moments between Howland and Jon or Howland and anyone really were rare. As the Lord of the Neck and member of the Greenmen, Howland often spent weeks managing the Neck alone that left little time to be with his family. Ashara sometimes went with him, and none minded really except Jon who was a mama's boy.

They had been living in the Neck for 2 years now and had only faint memory or two of their stay in Dorne. But they remembered the cold blue eyes of a woman, the boisterous laughter of a large man in a hall, and the kind grey eyes of another man.

She was old enough to know that Howland was not her real father and Ashara not her real mother. When Jon was told of this, he had said he didn't care for a man who abandoned him and Arya, Ashara, Howland, and Meera were enough family for him. But Aerea cared. She longed for a father and while Howland was kind and loving, he was absent so often. Arthur had the personality of a brick and Gerold was always too high-strung too often, as if looking for a threat, to be a proper father. She hoped Ned Stark wouldn't let her down.

Arya gingerly went to touch her own-pet, Bobby, who looked just apprehensive as her. When she put her finger on the snout and opened her eyes to find she wasn't missing a finger, she smiled and decided to pet it more affectionately. "I touched her, Jon!" He turned his head and gave her an encouraging smile. 10 minutes later Aerea Targaryen had struck up a tentative relationship with Bobby! It only went so far as to not bite her when she got too annoying in exchange for petting and foods. But it was something.

On the sides, the adults were observing this with varying expressions. Artos(Arthur) looked alert and ready to defend, Gerry(Gerold) looked like he was constipated, Howland wore a proud and knowing smile, Ashara had a warm and loving expression. She was heavily pregnant and due in a few moons. This one would be a spring babe. At the tail-end of winter.

"Relax Ser Gerry, the Old Gods are with us and the children will be fine" spoke Howland. Hearing this, Ser Gerry looked to start an age-old argument. For all his many talents and knowledge, Ser Gerold Hightower was a very narrow-minded and religious man. A devout follower of the seven. It had taken Ser Gerold a week to come to terms with what he saw at the Tower of Joy and was still very uncomfortable with not just Howland but Ashara and any other crannogmen, never mind a Greenman.

"Their father was anointed the light of th-" started Gerold

"Yeah yeah I get that. However, the king and princess need magic and for that they must have faith in the Old Gods. There is no room for another faith. A man standing on two boats is always going to sink" Howland Reed was very passionate about the old gods. And so was Ser Gerold for the Seven.

 _A recipe for disaster, is what this is._ Mused Artos(Arthur). He looked to intervene. "Lord Commander, we saw how Howland restrained us and uses magic to steer Greywater Watch. I am a knight and follower of the Seven as well, but seeing is believing. And I have seen enough to know that magic is going to be far more useful than reciting the _Seven Pointed Star_ 77 times." He stated in his normal flat yet determined tone. Ashara just looked on amused at this old and worn argument. Ser Gerold believed the King and Princess could learn magic without having faith in the Old Gods and Howland shot back, "you know nothing", Lord Commander.

"It will take the children a week to get acquainted with their familiars and about a moon later, I am going to start teaching them Lizard-lion riding" stated Howland in a matter-of-fact tone.

Ser Arthur knew this was going to be dangerous and potentially fatal but Howland Reed was the best man for the job and denying the children this rite of passage for all magicals in the Neck would be more detrimental than beneficial. Children were cruel and already shunned Arya and Jon for their different looks, they didn't want to exacerbate the problem. Already Jon had got into 3 mini-fights with Lord Greenwoods' son who had tried to mock Arya. Bastardy didn't mean much to children or adults in the Neck or the North but being _different_ and thus being treated worse was a trademark of humanity everywhere. It was inevitable.

Thankfully, Meera treated her adopted brother and sister with adoration and admiration. She was the same age as them and spent a lot of time together. 

* * *

An hour later, the Lord Commander began Jaehaerys and Aerea's lessons on heraldry and memorizing rivers and important landmarks. Ser Gerold had noticed that both of them were bright and eager but where Aerea could sit through hours of verbal discourse, Jaehaerys, just a brilliant as his sister, needed more hands-on teaching and had difficulty sitting for an extended period.Teaching Aerea was a pleasure, that girl was so inquisitive and could soak up information like a sponge. While Ser Gerold had the education of a maester, he didn't had the patience and thus Aerea had taken it upon herself to teach her brother some patience while Ashara helped her devise engaging methods that helped Jaehaerys learn. And thus mother and daughter had a united and loving front to help their son and brother. It payed that Meera was adventurous enough that Jaehaerys could release all his frustration through excercise and playing games on Ser Arthur. 

When Jon had complained to Howland about his difficulty in sitting still, Howland had taken him in his lap and explained that he had the wolf's blood, a gift from the Old Gods and to be thankful that his sister didn't. It would only bring misery to her. But if he learned to control it then it would be very useful in protecting his sister. Hearing the phrase "protecting his sister" had woken up something in Jon and he constantly pestered and pricked at Arthur about learning discipline. It was good that Howland had identified it early, Jon had far more wolf's blood than Lyanna ever did but thankfully, less than Brandon, and taming it would take years. Years that they did have, so it was all right.

Training to tame his impulsive nature and reckless behavior would robb Jaehaerys of precious time with Howland. Everyone insisted that he better learn before puberty hit lest he became more wolf than man. Not only that, but Aerea, while less naturally gifted at warging and magic than him, she more than made up for it in skill, patience and practice. Yet fate was on their side and it would equip them with the tools they need to face the upcoming challenges.

**A few moons later.**

**Jaehaerys POV**

Jon was riding a lizard-lion and having a hell of a time. The swamp's humid atmosphere or cold wind never bothered him or Arya. And right now it was just he, Meera and Arya here. He had left them behind since he knew they would catch up eventually.

Moat Cailin's broken but still impressive towers were just a bit farther ahead.

A few minutes later.

"I rode for more than 5 leagues today Meera, you lose! Pay up!" Exclaimed a victorious Jon. He turned back when her heard no heated denials from Meera and searched for Meera and Arya.

There was no one.

He waited for a while to see if Meera and Arya tried to jump-scare him. He would turn it back upon them. He just knew it.

When after 10 minutes no one came up. He started getting anxious.

He knew he was better at this, but _this_ much better? He wasn't delusional enough to believe that. "C'mon shaggy, let's go back and look for them" He said to his partner. _Where was Karan though?_ Karan was the bastard of Lord Fenn who was also their lizard-lion riding instructor whenever Lord reed wasn't here. Like now. Jon and shaggy started to trace back the path but knew it was mostly useless since tracks didn't last for much long here. He wasn't about to give up on his sister and best friend though. Come hell or high water!

He heard voices shouting some distance ahead. They were trying to shut up someone's crying.

It sounded like Meera!

Blood started pumping in his veins and he rushed-in head first.

He shouldn't have, for only grief awaited him there.

What normally would have taken him a few minutes to cover that distance at sprinting took him but a moment. He didn't notice. The swamp was treacherous and it took all his focus to not slip and he had to struggle to not unleash the instinct to go ballistic. He wasn't entirely successful in the latter. What he saw in the clearing made him abandon Arthur's lessons and with a loud cry he drop-heel kicked someone carrying the Frey banner in the back of the neck. It made a crunching noise. He did not notice. Again.

All his focus was on his crying sister and best friend. They were tied in a painful way, Meera had a split lip and red-face from a brutal slap, and Arya looked dazed as if she was hit hard in the head. In front of them laid the twitching bodies of Bobby and Betty. Meera and Arya's lizard-lions. Riddled with barbed arrows. A man was kneeling adjacent to the not-yet-dead bodies of the lizard-lions. He had a Frey leather sheld, was wiry and had a black beard. His eyes had a cruel gleam in them.

Jon realized he was sitting in an awkward position and couldn't get up. This time, he did notice. He felt like he came out of a trance. His foot was aching terribly and the urge the cry was too strong. So he let loose .

"Aaaaaaaargh!"

The kneeling man stood up and started laughing. He stopped abruptly and started speaking."Look here fellas, little bastard broke his foot on fat Rhaegar's neck! Ha!" Some of them chuckled nervously, others had no such restrain and laughed openly. There were 6 men in the clearing. Except Rhaegar Frey. The dead Rhaegar Frey. "I capture Eddard Stark's bastards and Howland's daughter in one day. **And** you kill my rival, Rhaegar Frey. Could this day get any better?" He looked immensely pleased and had a smug grin.

Jaehaerys vowed to wipe that off his face, literally.

"Lothar bind him too and kill his little beast" commanded the one with the black beard and wiry frame. The one commanded looked outraged and spat furiously, "You may scare all these cronies of yours Black Walder but you are and will always be a Bastard!" The one they called Black Walder looked to be getting red in the face when the Haigh knights loosed several arrows. They missed and heard the screams from one of their fellows. This time when shaggy bit down on the unarmored Neck, there was a crunching noise and everyone cringed. But Black Walder had more control of his senses and didn't care for his own man's safety and loosened a vicious looking arrow.

He didn't miss. There was a loud splash and both Shaggy and the Frey soldier fell. Unmoving.

Jaehaerys was in shock.

Shaggy had followed him here. _Of course he followed me here, stupid!_ _He is my partner._

He had snuck up and killed 2 of the 6 while Black Walder was gloating to a 5-namedays old child. _My partner has more brains than I,_ thought Jaehaerys morosely.

He felt a small part of himself die alongside Shaggy.

Arya's had decided to stop pretending when she heard Jae's cry yet her head snapped fully awake at hearing his near-silent, painful sobs. Somehow, she felt she could share his grief and felt her own lighten up a little. She and Jae always had this bond that went beyond a siblings bond, beyond even a twins, like she was inside Jae's head sometimes or felt him inside her head sometimes. But that couldn't be true right? There were tales of wargs and skinchangers but nothings like this bond.

Out of nowhere came barbed and poisoned arrows.

Crannog arrows. No doubt having heard not only Meera's cry for help but also Jae's loud announcement before he literally one-kicked someone to death.

Seeing glowing green eyes everywhere and shifting swamp beneath his feet, Black Walder knew the Stranger was near. There were stories of magic users and skin-changers. But Black Walder didn't believe them. Why would he when he grew up in a house and region that looked down upon all crannogmen and Northmen? He would appreciate any help, from any god, anywhere in the world-right about _now._ He was so sure his plan-flawless and daring that it was-would work. And it did and he only had to wait for a sennight and observe their schedules. After the first few days he was sure Howland Reed would easily dismantle any of his plans yet he was stubborn and brow beat those who wanted to retreat into following him.

And lo and behold the Seven provided him! The only day Howland Reed and that fellow with a intimidating stare, Artos Snow was absent and he struck a poison dart towards the only remaining guard of the three children, Karan Snow, barely 14 yet a gifted tracker and warg. Debilitated though he was, Snow surprised him by not only remaining alive but also getting back-up in time. These crannogmen are hard to kill, it seems.

Seeing the situation dwindle with his Knights in tough leather armor falling dead and not knowing the number of enemies he might be facing. Black Walder and the remaining two tried a hasty retreat.

Karan Snow's men did not give chase. But they did not need to. The magicals were already handling the situation. They were cautious by nature and did not know if he had any reinforcements or backup. So they would release the purposefully hidden hallucinogenic flowers with pollen on that particular path and Black Walder and his companions would never be seen again. Perhaps a lizard-lions's belly, a bog's treacherous foothold or a deadly insect's bite. Death's manner was meaningless but it _was_ assured. 

Snow and his men thought it was best to collect Lord Reed's wards and daughter and leave this place. Karan left his hiding hole came out, still searching for enemies. He stabbed one downed opponent in the neck. He was only pretending to be dead.

Caution saved more lives that day than reckless bravery. Jaehaerys immediately went to his sister and brought her to to his chest. "I am sorry" "I am sorry". They both started apologizing profusely.

The weirdness of it all was enough to get a half-hearted chuckle from both of them. "I am sorry. I should have saved you" Said Jon with his head down. He had never let her down before today even when he struggled with lessons but to fail her so badly left him feeling miserable. Arya merely shook her head and said, "I was just pretending to be dazed to get them to lower their guard. I saw how brave you were Jon. You don't have to apologize to me".

Meera, listening on the sideline wanted to crack a joke at that but then decided otherwise and merely brought them all three in a group hug. She said "It was my idea to use a different route to the finishing point. I am sorry" No words were said after that. There was no need. They knew there was nothing to forgive. They all lost someone precious to them this day. But their grief brought them even closer. They would protect their precious people better from now on. A lesson. They would later be grateful that they lived long enough to see the fruits of this hard lesson.

Karan got up from his investigation and started raiding the armor and valuables of the downed enemies and said "It's time to get you all back. I am sorry I didn't arrive in time" There was a genuine apology in his tone. One that they were hesitant to forgive, for they lost their partners to someone's ineptness.

* * *

Jaehaerys, being carried by Karan Snow on his back, was too numb to say anything on the way back. Arya kept shooting him concerned glances and Meera was acting way too chipper for it to be real. _I killed a man. I killed a man._ This kept repeating in his head like a chant. Yet, _it didn't feel bad. He didn't feel bad or regret it. I was only protecting my family. Am I monster for not feeling bad? What would mama think?_

 _Would she hate me? She is always so gentle and kind, surely she would not abandon me like my real father did._ The children were hoping for Ashara's embrace or Howland's soothing words.

They received neither.

Ser Gerry told them that the baby was coming home and both Artos and Howland were helping mama. Hearing her cries Meera and Arya started sobbing too. Jon tried to be stronger for them and hugged them close and whispered everything will be alright. And it was.

Jojen reed came screaming into this world to joyous parents and morose siblings.

Winter finally ended and spring came.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Departure and a harvest feast.

**Greywater Watch, early 286 AC.**

**A fortnight after Jojen's birth**

**Arya POV**

Arya slowly opened her eyes to see her twin's sleeping face. He looked so peaceful, without a care in the world. She was nestled in his side and feeling his ever-present, unique warmth, she snuggled even closer. Meera was draped on his chest on the other side. It was cozy and comfortable. She sighed contentedly and went back to sleep.

* * *

She was glad Meera was with them. She still played and laughed with them. When their rescuers saw Rhaegar Frey's dead body with a broken neck and Jon on the ground with a twisted foot, it didn't take much to connect the dots. And the news spread throughout the neck. A child killing a grown man with a kick, a lucky kick but still. There were too many witnesses for it to be suppressed or doubted. And the children that were already wary of them, on account of their different looks now altogether shunned them. No doubt encouraged by their parents. At least they feared Jon now and didn't dare tease her anymore. Jon also took his lessons and training a bit more seriously, so that was good.

After they came home that day and Ashara was strong enough to talk, they told her of what happened, and Ser Artos looked especially guilty mumbling how he should have been there and Ser Gerry seemed to be cursing his age and lack of agility. But Ash listened patiently and hugged them all. She soothed Jon's fear of being a monster for not feeling guilty after killing a man and then Ser Gerry(trained as a maester) went to heal Jon's twisted foot. Arya thanked the old gods that her brother was going to be alright.

A fortnight after the birth and Ashara was still weak. And she was spending nearly all her time with baby Jojen. Arya didn't mind much but Jon did, he was an attention hog, especially from Ash. He looked especially envious of baby Jojen when he suckled Ashara's teats.

* * *

Karan Snow entered the room with a stoic face.

Greywater Watch was not the most spacious castle, it wasn't even a castle really and this room reflected that. It had a cramped yet warm, home-y feel. Spring had come but the brazier was still lit. They needn't have bothered, for Jon exuded a natural heat that everyone quite liked if Arya and Lady Meera's delight at sharing his bed was anything to go by. Lord and Lady Reed saw to it that they all shared a room seeing how they were so close to each other.

He saw Lady Meera asleep in the center of the bed and her two friends were awake and feeling quite mischievous. Jon had one of Lady Meera's paint brush in his hand and looked so focused as if he was painting the next _Rhaenys, the Queen that never was_ masterpiece and not a mustache on his best friend's face. It was quite amusing really.

He chuckled and hearing that Jon immediately dropped the paintbrush and made the situation even worse. He looked sheepish while Arya giggled on the side. Lady Meera woke up groggily and had a decidedly displeased look on her face that promised retribution. 

He cleared his throat, and everyone turned towards him.

"Get ready Jon, Arya, Lady Meera. Lord Reed sent for you". His announcement was met with silence. Lady Meera scrambled to get out of the room to wash her face and Jon looked at Arya and shrugged. They got up and started following him. 

Jon and Arya were purposefully sluggish so that Meera had enough time to wash her face and they could face any punishment together. Karan ushered them inside and stopped outside to stand guard.

* * *

**Meera POV**

She caught up with them and entered the Lord's solar. Ser Artos, Ser Gerry, mother and father were already there. They looked like they just finished a very important discussion and not all were pleased with how it ended. Especially mother. _I wonder what it could be?_

Seeing the children enter, the adults turned towards them and indicated to take a seat. They did.

Then taking a deep breath, father spoke, “Arya, Jon, Meera, I have something to tell you. You three would be going to Winterfell to meet your half-siblings and liege lord for a few moons. You leave tomorrow. Do you understand me?” He asked softly.

Arya and Jon looked stunned. They had only met their father when they were very young and only about a single memory of him smiling at them. They had been told that their father was a kind man who couldn’t see them as often as he would like to. And this was the first time they would be meeting their father.

Jon and Arya both looked excited. Meera knew why. While both twins looked at her father as their father too, Arya wanted someone who wasn’t nearly as absent as Lord Reed was. Jon, on the other hand looked very excited to meet his half-siblings. After that awful business with the Freys and the children shunning them all, he longed for friends his age.

She spoke, “Father why am I going too? I wanted to play with Jojen and help mama too”. Father had a kind look on his face and replied, “Your brother is still too young, sweetling, give him time to get stronger and then you could play with him as often as you like”. Meera could tell that wasn’t the only reason but she was sure father had his reasons, so she let it be.

“Would you be coming with us, father?” Arya asked hopefully.

Father shook his head and said, “ I have my duties in the Neck but Ser Artos, Ser Gerry and Karan along with 7 other crannogmen would be going with you. For your protection.” Arya looked disappointed but nodded.

Mama got up from her seat and indicated us to follow. “Come it’s time for you to begin to learn how to pack”.

Jon groaned.

Meera and Arya giggled. His discomfort after this morning’s highlight, was amusing. She still hadn’t had her revenge after all.

* * *

**Jon POV**

Lizard-lion riding was fun. But it was children-only activity because adults were far heavier and difficult to navigate with on a lizard-lion’s back. There were stories of Marsh—Kings riding lizard-lions in battle but either the crannogmen of the past were even shorter than now or the lizard-lions themselves were much bigger and sturdier.

Whichever it was, didn’t concern Jon now. His failure to keep his sister and best-friend safe and his still-healing leg kept reminding him to be responsible whenever the urge to go for a ride with one of his ex-friends popped up.

Like right now.

He ruthlessly squashed that urge and focused on his kata. He was already an older brother to Arya and Meera and now to Jojen as well. He was very excited to meet his half-siblings and didn’t want to fail them too should something happen.

And thus, he followed Ser Artos’ instruction to swing the practice sword until exhaustion and then go pack his stuff before dawn. Stuff that he had already packed but was paying for his earlier indiscretion and Meera had exacted her revenge. He sighed and started walking towards the Keep.

Once he was done packing, he saw a smug Meera and guilty looking Arya standing at the gate. _Why would Arya look guilty? I know Arya would have come to my aid even if I didn’t ask._ He turned towards Meera, “tell me why does my sister have that look on her face?” If anything, Arya blushed further and looked down.

Meera spoke a single word and everything clicked in place. “Cheesecake” _Ah. She must have bribed Arya to look the other way or lured Arya away from my room with promise of one while I had to re-pack”_ Clever for a little girl.

“So, did you enjoy your cheesecake little sister?” Asked Jon.

Arya mumbled something, shook her head and said, “There was no cheesecake, she tricked me” She pointed an accusing finger at Meera and wiggled it menacingly.

Jon started laughing and Arya looked embarrassed and indignant. He couldn’t tell if her blush was from anger, disappointment or embarrassment. But it was too funny. 

Her nose crinkled in a cute way and a new bout of laughter ensued.

Meera, with hands on her hips and a particularly haughty tone said, “She was just as responsible for breaking my beauty sleep as you. She shall not go unpunished” Even before she stopped speaking, she couldn’t stop her giggles. Caring, easy-going Meera trying to fake a haughty tone brought Arya’s facial color to normal and she too chuckled..

Ashara was observing the scene from the hallway and had big smile on her face and was thankful that they hadn’t yet noticed her presence yet.

Everything was ready and they had to depart upon first light. She would miss her babies. For all that Arya and Jon weren’t her children, it didn’t matter to Ashara and they were hers in all but blood.

The seven crannogmen led by Karan Snow and Ser Artos and Ser Gerry came and they said their goodbyes and left. It was a very emotional goodbye despite her husband’s assurances that they will be back soon. This was the first time they would be leaving not only Greywater Watch but the Neck altogether. She couldn’t help but worry. 

***

Usually, it took nearly a fortnight to traverse from Greywater Watch’s most extreme point to Moat Cailin but these were crannogmen and took them only 4 days to see the ancient and decaying fortress’s towers. From Moat Cailin they traveled east to take a boat that would take them to White Harbor.

Strangely enough, at White Harbor, they met with Lord Wylis Manderly, bearer of the bleeding heart-tree tatoo and heir to the WHite Harbour, and his men were also set to depart for Winterfell. Their timing was suspicious. Lord Reed must have let them of their arrival or he didn't want to think about spies and their like. Arya and Jon noticed that the heir to White Harbor sent them inquisitive glances occasionally. Whatever he was looking for he must he found it, for he stopped sending them those looks and went towards the litter. They wondered what that was about. Arya knew that, politically, Lady Meera was far more important than two bastards yet the good-knight paid no attention to the noble-lady. It was interesting and didn't make sense with what she knew about the situation.

She and Jon had learned the lesson to keep your eyes and ears open at all times, and their near-successful kidnapping left them more paranoid than any their age were supposed to be.

Lord Wylis chatted away with Ser Gerry while Ser Artos and the other crannogmen kept watch.

***

After a few days of sailing up the White Knife and then renting horses from Castle Cerwyn they soon saw Winterfell, the capital of the North. It was majestic and imposing. It was the third largest and one of the strongest castles in Westeros. Arya and Jon found it hard not to compare it to Greywater Watch. And Greywater Watch lost miserably on most criteria, except one.

* * *

**Catelyn POV**

Winterfell was in a festive mood. Winter just ended and Spring and warmth came together.

Catelyn Tully, even after 3 years of marriage and living in the North, found it hard to believe that life in Winterfell was easy compared to most other Northern castles and keeps. It boggled her mind that Northerners had castles without Winterfell’s hot-springs that eased off winter’s harsh bite. And they have lived in them for generation after generation. She shuddered to think what it was like at the 500 feet tall Wall with chilling wind or Beyond-the-Wall with primitive technology and little protection against the cold.

The Harvest feast was not yet in full swing, what with the vast distances needed to travel and guests that needed shelter in sudden rain or hailstorm. The Hornwoods, Cerwyns, Glovers, Talharts, Ryswells and Dustins were already here with their heirs, spares and daughters. The Boltons, Manderlys, Karstarks, Umbers, Flints and Reeds had yet to arrive.

Her good-brother, Benjen, was also supposed to be here. Yet he wasn't. He had been sent to lead a survey party to take a look at Sea Dragon Point and make his recommendations. The castle and keep were in ruin but the location was excellent. Ned had been considering giving it to Bran, once he came of age. She had protested that vigorously because Moat Cailin was far stronger and more prestigious. Ned had refuted that Jon and Arya's close connection to the Neck and the crannogmen makes it a better fit for them. It's not like Sea Dragon Point was Bear Island level poor or weakly defended, it had just rotted away with time and winter had taken away its liege family's lives. 

She was brought back to reality by her maid, “Milady the outriders saw the Manderly and Reed banners in Wintertown with the Boltons, Umbers and Karstarks a couple hours ride behind ‘em. They should all be here by nightfall” She finished, panting lightly.

Catelyn looked pleased to hear that.

Sidori was a new kitchen maid, she lived in Wintertown and had a southern mother and new how to make several southern dishes. That’s why Catelyn had decided to hire her. She was strangely knowledgeable about events and happenings south of the Neck and could read letters as well. Whenever Catelyn felt the need to gossip or know about this Lord or that Lady, Sidori was her go-to person. The older maids who have been here far longer than either Catelyn or Sidori didn’t like that and had warned her to be suspicious. Catelyn didn’t dwell on that thought, they were just jealous. and started worrying about more important matters. Like her husband’s bastards.

Communication between Winterfell and Greywater Watch was rare, but the last raven told an appalling tale. Appalling and tragic and worrying. She remembered felling horrified and Ned’s jaw clenching and unclenching several times after Maester Luwin was done reading. Ned still hadn’t decided what he wanted

_To Eddard Stark,_

_Lord of Winterfell, Warden of North_

_I, Howland Reed, write this to inform you of the reprehensible acts of House Frey’s members. They trespassed into the Neck, as they have done for hundreds of years, perhaps looking to kidnap a valuable knight or merchant and then ransom him/her to their family. However, this time, the ambitious villain, Black Walder decided to abduct my daughter, Meera. He just happened to bite more than he can chew. Your natural children, Jon and Arya were playing with Meera when the deplorable act happened. Black Walder, Lothar Frey, Rhaegar Frey and 4 other collaborators are 6 feet under now._

_Rest assured, the crannogmen under Karan Snow rescued them but not before the children saw their pets cruelly killed and Jon’s wolfblood fuellled rage shattered Rhaegar Frey’s neck via a daring kick that saw his foot unnaturally bent._

_Jon is fine now. However, following the traumatic event and the following social isolation by similar-aged children and Jon’s desire to see his half-siblings convinced me to send Jon, Arya and Meera under Ser Gerry and Ser Artos with some of the best crannogmen warriors to Winterfell. Children have big hearts and short memories, its my hope that spending a few months would heal their mental scars and be more readily accepted in the Neck_

_Howland Reed,_

_Lord of Greywater Watch, Lord of the Neck_

The fact that a nearly 6 name-days old boy had to kill a man to rescue himself and his family was bad enough. But when the villain in question happened to be one of her father’s bannerman brought a sense of shame to Catelyn. A shame only exceeded by her last great one.

She wasn’t proud to admit that when she first came to Winterfell, she had acted like the spoiled, snobbish, southern lady and demeaned and insulted Northern customs and manners whether verbally or in the back of her mind. But she saw now how old, young and unmarried men would often go “hunting” and never return so that their families had more food. Such a notion would never have entered her mind. Before she came to the North, as much as she detested the Freys, she would never have believed Lord Reed’s allegations against her father’s bannerman from the savage Northerners. But she did now, oh how she did now! The Northmen were stubborn, and bull headed but they were honorable. Lying to a liege like this would make a father take his own son’s head, because honor demanded that.

That her husband’s son was a killer at such a young age brought forth troubling feelings to the fore front of her mind. She still hadn’t decided what she wanted to feel about the children. They were products of sin in the eyes of the Seven, yet her husband hadn’t dishonored herself when he sired them. The Dornish and the Northmen didn’t exhibit the vehement hatred that the rest of the kingdoms did for bastards, they followed different gods and had different customs, it followed that her husband wouldn’t really feel ashamed of bastards. Afterall, many houses had been saved from extinction by a King in the North legitimizing a bastard and raising him/her to a lordship when winter wiped out entire family trees. It was a fact of life in the North.

She was conflicted, she recognized. She didn’t want her Robb, Bran or Sansa near someone who has already killed, especially at such a young age. Yet the act was done out of necessity and in defense of family. How could she condemn that? How could a true Tully ever condemn that?

***

An hour after Sidori’s announcement, Winterfell’s gates opened and the merman banner of the Manderlys and the lizard-lion banner of the Reeds came to the courtyard. Lord-too-fat-to-sit-a-horse’s litter was also brought in. Wylis Manderly, looking as jovial as always dismounted and with a heavy step regained his bearing. Alongside him, Ser Artos, Ser Gerry, Karan Snow and the retainers of House Manderly and the crannogmen all dismounted. The children looking disgruntled at having to sit in a litter, stepped out.

Catelyn saw the amazement and wonder the very moment their eyes landed on the Great Keep and the Great Hall. She knew that feeling well. Riverrun, as well defended and well-provisioned as it was didn’t hold a candle to Winterfell. She could only imagine what Casterly Rock and Harrenhal would look like. If the maesters were to be believed, then Winterfell was “only” one-third the size of Harrenhal and Casterly Rock was bigger still. She could scarce imagine such large structures. 

The twins moved in a sync, their eyes falling onto her.

She saw a guarded look appear on the boy’s face the moment he seemingly recognized her and him moving a protective arm in front of his sister.

His mismatched dark eyes were wary and willing to do anything to protect his sister. Such blind devotion was both endearing and intimidating. Catelyn wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. She had planned to intimidate and manipulate the girl into becoming a proper lady and the boy to being blindly loyal to Robb. Honorable? No. But it would deter the bastards from planning to rise from their seven-given station and pining after Robb’s birthright. A small part of her whispered that she had already failed, but as usual, Catelyn Tully ignored sensible advice and indicated the servants to take the Reed party to the Guest quarters and the bastards stuff to be taken to the lower part of Stark household and given a smaller room than Robb or Bran.

Before those orders could be followed, the little Lady Reed took one look at her and gestured Ser Artos to come closer and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and started walking towards her in a measured, determined pace. He stopped a respectable distance and without taking off his helmet said, “My lady, I am Ser Artos, in service to Lord Reed and have been sent here to represent and guard Lord Reed’s daughter and wards.” Catelyn nodded at that. He had the Northern accent and strong voice.

“My Lady, Meera wishes to be with her best friends during the entire duration of their stay and apologizes for any inconvenience.” _Inconvenience? Try foiling my plans. I wanted to show the bastards their place but can’t place a noble lady in the servants quarters, can I? No matter this is but the start, there are more ways than one to skin a stag._ She smiled a brittle, false smile and said, “Of course my good ser, I was merely trying to allow the bastards to get to know their siblings and a lady like Meera shouldn’t associate with their ilk” She made a small tut-tut at the end of her statement. She noticed how Ser Artos’ jaw clenched at the words “bastards” and him trying not to say something impolite.

“My lady one Guest chamber for all three of the children would suffice” He replied in a clipped tone. She shook her head and said, “They came here to meet and know their family did they not? So they shall stay near Robb and Bran’s room, adjacent to Sansa’s. I merely assumed a lady like Meera would distance herself from bastards than stay close to them.” He merely nodded and when he looked back, neither of the three children were here. “Ser Artos where are they?” She asked.

Ser Artos had a little smile upon hearing that. He replied, “Jon doesn’t have much patience and he more than likely dragged his sisters along with him to explore the castle and its history. He has a very adventurous heart. ” Ser Artos had said his piece and returned to his retinue without much fanfare.

Catelyn felt strangely violated upon hearing that. For 3 years she had been the Lady of Winterfell and everything happened needed her approval unless Lord Stark minded. He never did and she had de-facto control of the castle. 3 brats not asking her permission before going of gallivanting irked her.

***

Several hours later,

Catelyn next saw the twins talking to Domeric Bolton, right in front of the entrance to the godswood and Lady Meera talking to Dacey Mormont. Oh no!

They were all about the same age, give or take a year or two but to see a Bolton, two Bastards, a crannogwoman and a Mormont woman whispering in a secluded area raised several warning bells in her head. The rational part whispered that none of them was older than 8 name-days or had any suspicious encounters whatsoever, yet she couldn’t let this unholy gathering go any further than it already did.

She stalked closer to them and remembering her courtesies tried not to stomp her feet on the grounds. The Bolton and Mormont heir’s back were turned towards her, but the Bastards saw her coming and grew tense yet again. Their whispering stopped and they bowed towards her. The creepy, soft-spoken Bolton heir spoke up and asked, “What can we do for you Lady Stark?”

The Bastards and the Reed were still looking at her warily while Mormont girl was trying to whistle. Truly, Mormont women had no sense of manners or refinement at all. They were as animalistic as their sigil. _Now how to break this up without coming across as unlady-like and hostile?_

_Ah!_

“Jon, Arya, I think it’s time you meet your half-siblings and Karan Snow was looking for you Lady Reed, so you best run along.” She delivered that in a cool, measured tone.

The twins shared a knowing look and nodded towards the Bolton heir. On their way towards her, the girl’s hands touched Domeric’s(she passed a note) and Catelyn shook her head. That girl's ambitions to rise above her station would only bring ruin upon her. What noble lord would marry a bastard? Especially a Bolton heir marrying a Stark bastard.

Truly unthinkable.

Lady Meera left with the Mormont heir and the Bolton heir went towards the guest quarters.

***

Catelyn started walking towards the Great Keep where the Starks lived and the twins followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. You know I never imagined writing Catelyn POV would be so much fun. Ah the joys of fanfiction.  
> 2\. Book!Jon has several moments of Berserker strength where he has crazy strength level like lifting Ser Aliser Thorne with 1 hand while tired and injured or when he wrenched out the spikes dug in by the Weeper or when he mounted a running horse without saddle and still had a blade in one arm. No other character has shown that "I am losing my shit yet got a crazy strength boost". Mix the wolfsblood and dragon blood and you get a volatile mixture. That's part of the justification of a ~6 year old killing a grown man.  
> 3\. Benjen isn't on the Wall, I have different plans for him though.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feast continues. Important meetings and a fate-changing quarrel. First look at Essos and the exiled Targaryens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I wrote this while sleep deprived and on mobile. Apologies for any grammar or continuity errors.  
> 2\. Butterfly effect in action.  
> 3\. Ned Stark takes baby steps at learning how to play the game.

**286 AC, Winterfell  
** **Lord's Solar**

**Sidori Rains**

Sidori was very glad she had eavesdropped on the short, thin man with pointy beard back in Kings Landing. And the events that followed never failed to bring a smug smile on her face. Her house would rise once again, she vowed.

She was standing in the shadows and watching the scene unfold. She was lucky Lord Stark was distracted by his bastards arrival, he usually sent out everyone when he was handling Lordly duties, including Lady Catelyn.

The structure of the Solar made it very difficult to spy on, and it had a strange material that somehow dampened sound. She never understood the how's when her handler explained it to her, all she knew was it made her job difficult and she resented that.

If she hadn't followed the dumb trout here then she would have likely missed it.

Lord Stark, a man that she fervently believed had ice in his veins, had a large smile on his face as he went to meet his children. His smile made her smallclothes feel damp. 

_Down girl. Not now._

She must have made some noise for Lord Stark's eyes snapped towards her and immediately turned hard. He ordered her out and she cursed her teenage for missing out on a grinning Eddard Stark and the opportunity to collect more information.

Luck must have been on her side for a furious looking Benjen Stark strode into the solar and the gate remained slightly ajar. _Thank Father for small mercies!_

Despite being just outside she could only hear particularly loud bits.

-"You forbid me from joining the Night's Watch!"

-"He's my nephew too!"

-"I will not hear a word against Robert!"

-"That's enough Ben!"

-"You will give him the respect due as the rightful King or it's Exile!"

-"I am leaving for Essos! Enjoy your cold fish of a wife and child-killer of a friend!"

A red faced Benjen Stark stormed out of the Solar, far more furious than when he entered. She heard Lord Stark's heavy sigh and decided to scramble fast. No doubt half the castle already knew about the row. Not the reasons or specifics but it wasn't hard to seduce. Benjen Stark left after only a brief time with his nephews and nieces and didn't even stay for the feast. Something was afoot here.

She finished writing her observations, _that's all they are,_ she told herself and saw if she had any new message with the Titan of Braavos' stamp.

There was.

A cryptic code that translated to "Anything unusual?" She wrote, "several but the only truly remarkable one was the bastard girl. Her hands had a soothing cool, calm touch despite being near the brazier. I only noticed when her twins hands were softly warm, the way being near a brazier makes them." She knew he would disregard this, it was inconsequential but she prided herself on her meticulousness.

She sighed. If only her persuasiveness matched her meticulousness. Then Midori, the previous maid who she had befriended and pretended to be a cousin of, would be alive.

She let the raven fly.

* * *

**Eddard Stark**

He saw the letter from Jon Arryn and groaned internally. The row with his brother had taken its toll. They had practiced for hours and hours before Ned could lie convincingly. He didn't like this mummery at all but he had to.

Benjen would be networking/gallivanting through Essos using whatever method available to keep Jon's Uncle and Aunt safe and act as an emissery, in time. His exile would free House Stark from repercussions and the royal Prince and Princess would hopefully lead a better life.

This task was Benjen's big-boy job. Assigning Benjen this task was his way of demonstrating his trust and a token of forgiveness for Ben's part in Lyanna's recklessness.

Once again, Ned thanked the Old God's for Howland Reed. Normally, this task would have required them to cease communications for years but Howland the Resourceful bastard has come through once again. His solution to the long-distance and ravens being shot down was to assign someone from the warg squadron to prepare a migratory bird everytime a message needed to be sent. That meant roughly twice a year with 100% reliability and fast speed.

He could've kissed the man then and there before he recalled two important things. 1) Those lips tasted Ashara frequently in indescribable ways and 2) He had been coerced into breaking his vow to Robert and swear a new one to a not-newborn nephew.

Still, Howland was a messenger of the Old Gods and he did as they commanded. He could no more be angry at him than he could be at a heart tree.

Speaking of his nephew and niece, he had fretted and worried constantly if Howland Reed was the man he wanted them to be close to or if the Neck was a safe place to grow at or if Ashara would give them a mother's love or if or if if...Point being, he was a anxious mother hen.

Seeing them happy and having a close relationship with Meera uplifted his anxiety and to Cat's surprise was relieved when she told him about them befriending the Bolton and Mormont heir. He had prayed that they could still make friends their own age and the social isolation of the Neck didn't bear down too heavily on them.

It didn't.

Jon seemed immune to being belittled as a bastard as long as they were directed at him and not Arya and though he could tell that Arya was bothered, she had far better control of her facial expressions than anyone that age. She came across as stony and cold which was intimidating to other children in a way that being bigger would never be.

He recalled how nervous he had been that the children may end up not liking each other since they might feel they have to compete for his attention and affection. But at the end of day with Benjen storming out, only Robb seemed subdued. He had been the older sibling of 2, yet in a single day, he became younger than the 2. It was different for him, Ned understood.

* * *

Ned sat at the head table and heard Ser Wylis whisper, "is it done, My Lord?". He gave the smallest of nods.

He settled back and decided to test the man a little. By putting him on the spot. As he cleared his throat, conversation around the table died down. In his steady, deep voice he said, "My father, Lord Rickard Stark will be forever remembered as the Burnt Wolf but his highest accomplishment was reinstating the Northern Navy and making a channel to connect Blazewater Bay to the Bite." He turned towards See Wylis and asked in a measured tone, "How far along is the Eastern Fleet, Ser Wylis?"

Ser Wylis had not expected the question and fumbled a bit but recovered gracefully. He spoke in a respectful tone, "Fleets take time to build my Lord, as you all know, but training the men to be proper seafarers is a tedious task. The fleet itself would be completed by next year, roughly, but the Seamen would take time" Lord Eddard nodded and felt vindicated in his decision to take Ser Wylis in place of Theo Wull to the Tower of Joy. Alas, the Ser Wylis of then and Ser Wylis of now may as well be two different creatures. At least Ser Wylis still had his sharp mind and honed business instincts. They would prove very useful indeed. The Boltons may brag about being the seond-strongest house in the North but in truth the Manderly's were just as powerful, if not more.

This was the purpose of the feast, to test and prod, to seek allies and identify enemies. The entire Northern nobility didn't travel hundreds of miles just to taste a better-made Venison or an exotic crab.

Ned turned towards Lord Bolton and commanded, "Deal with your bannermen, the Whitehills, Lord Roose, before the direwolf grows impatient" He finished with a low growl. Lord Roose inclined his head in acknowledgement and gave the briefest nods.

A subtle dominance tactic followed by an overt one or "a silk glove and an iron fist" as his father used to say.

Now to assure the Lords that he had full faith in them. And pray for another bountiful harvest.

Gods he was so done with politics.

The conversation flowed and as lips grew loosed, courtesy of the strong mead, Ned listened closely for any resentment, lingering hate, hostilty towards himself or his family.

There was none.

Or they were experts at hiding it, not a pleasant thought, that one.

After a while Ned was satisfied and bid everyone Good Night. The drunken Lords stumbled around pitifully before many of them collapsed on the specially made floor mat. He had prepared for this.

Once he returned to the bed, his arms draped over Catelyn to find her breathing evenly. Asleep. He sighed softly and went to sleep.

**Braavos**

**284AC—289AC(Willem Darry.)**

**290AC onwards— Volantis  
**

Ser Willem Darry sighed softly, he was happy and content. Nearly 3 name days old Princess Daenaerys was reading. And was happy. That's all that matters for now. His eyes dropped and sleep came easily.

***

When he woke up again, he saw the Princess bouncing excitedly on a disgruntled looking Oswell Whent. He had mixed feelings about the Knight. When Ser Willem had fled Dragonstone on Queen Rhaella's oders, he had four other men with him.

They all deserted. One by one.

Stealing pieces of Targaryen legacy with them until only Queen Rhaella's crown remained. He had been so vengeful yet so powerless on those days that pious Ser Darry wanted to curse the Maiden with a Frey's dick and the Father with Maegor the Cruel's mercy.

When all hope seemed lost and Prince —no King Viserys —started getting more impetous and vicious, light came in the form of Oswell Whent. Imagine the Blind Bat of Harrenhal being someone's light. Hah. The Gods must be getting their funny bone tickled.

The sobriquet was well-deserved. The Whent family's sigil was a black bat and Ser Oswell was the most insensitive "joker" there was. Ser Willem had personally seen him mock a cripple, an old woman and a distraught Lysa Tully after her forced abortion. At least he mocked _everyone equally._

He brought with him several old Targaryen heirlooms and plenty of Gold. In one fell swoop Oswell made sure that the dark future he had once dreamt of never came true.

Yet for Prince Viserys, he brought the darkest news possible. Rhaegar's heir lives. He would speak no more of it, citing an oath, but it was obvious Prince Aegon—King now, was alive. Somewhere safe. He was relieved but Prince Viserys was immensely displeased. For good reason, before being slain by the treacherous lion, the Great King Aerys had disinherited Rhaegar and presumably, Rhaegar's line as well. It followed that Viserys was King now, crowned by Queen Rhaella no less.

See Willem stood with Prince Viserys but Ser Oswell had made his allegiance very clear.

In the initial years, Ser Oswell made coin as a sellsword to supplement the amount he brought with him, while Ser Darry managed the household. _It was almost like being a Lord and Lady of a Castle_ , mused Ser Darry with a little humor. Yet, now coin just appears out of thin air. Once when he had drank too much he saw a large, rare bird drop a bag of gold coins. He stayed in bed the entire next day to get a firmer grip on his psyche and his drinking.

That was just a hallucination, he was sure.

* * *

News was hard to get a hold of when you are in bed eighteen hours a day. Yet he couldn't believe his ears. The usurper's dog exiled his own brother for denying him being a Night's Watch ranger, some said. Others said, he wanted to raise his brother's bastards himself and not by a deceitful crannogman. Yet others said the younger brother spoke against the Baby-killing King and the older brother's honor and love wouldn't allow him to take his head as honor demanded, so he exiled him instead. This one See Darry could believe.

Usurper's dog he maybe but he was an honorable man, even a staunch fanatic like Darry could admit that.

*Thump*

At the loud noise of a book falling, See Darry came back to the world. He turned around to see a sheepish Daenaerys rubbing the back of her neck. Once again Ser Darry thanked the Seven for sending him the Blind Bat, without his resources and connections, Daenaerys would have grown up illiterate or worse—Viserys teaching her. All her intelligence would have gone to waste. He stopped his ruminating and looked at her face. Into those eyes. They were frighteningly intelligent. The first maester Darry had hired had quit saying the girl was dumb as a bag of rocks and would never be able to learn to read.

Oswell's coming changed that. He brought up a strangely competent and experienced but also, expensive learned man. A man that Oswell shouldn't have have kown about, yet did. Jaquen H'gar, an attractive Lorathi who specialized in teaching troubled Noble kids.

It turned out Daenaerys not only was painfully shy but also a perfectionist and frighteningly intelligent. The previous maester lacked the wisdom and patience that Jaquen had. The learned man promised that she would be selling quality paintings by the time she was 10 namedays old. Such talent was unheard of.

Viserys on the other hand was less than pleased to pay so much for a girl's frivolous whims. To be fair, when you are on the run, painting and architecture do seem a bit silly to be spending time on. Oswell insisted and as the man with most tangible power, both blade and gold, everyone listened. That was the beauty of power dynamics in the Targaryen household of Braavos'.

Follow Oswell, he knows best. (Also can use a sword and has the keys to the vault in the Iron Bank)

Yet Willem had known Oswell for a decade before and he had never been so creative or intelligent or took the initiative. Something was afoot here. Someone else was pulling the strings, Ser Willem Darry was sure of it.

But who? Ser Willem Darry, the Obedient, dies wondering that and Ser Oswell accepted the offer of a Volantene Nobel to live in his Manor.

They would be safe from assassins there, behind the Black Walls. No assassin had ever attacked Viserys and Daenaerys unless you count starving street urchins' attempted mugging. But Viserys was convinced that the Stag wouldn't sit comfortably until the majestic dragon, I.e. Viserys is alive. Oswell had snorted and told him that greater forces than a Kingsguard i.e. a certain mercenary company are one of their protections yet the Stag had left them in peace as long as they were in Essos and didn't conspire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know discussion with readers and fellow Asoiaf fans is one of the reasons I am writing fanfiction. So feel free to discuss.  
> Comments are appreciated, they help me keep perspective and so that I don't repeat the same mistake over and over again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Departure. Greyjoy Rebellion.

**Ser Arthur Dayne**

The Harvest Feast was a resounding success for the WeirMark bearers. Not that they had expected anything less than that.

A stronger kingdom, overall. A stronger base military (naval)output. Stronger economic arrangements with Braavos and Pentos. (Seems like Lord Rickard's hardwork was bearing fruit.) Stronger relationships between liege Lord/Lady and vassal(not that they are aware of it); Domeric and Jon, Manderlys and Starks, Arya/Meera and Dacey, Jon and basically everyone.

 _Rhaegar wouldn't have to plunge the kingdom into war or sacrifice thousands of men if he had an ounce of Jon's—King's charisma._ Mused Ser Arthur.

Even now the creepy, soft-spoken, older by nearly 3 name-days Bolton heir was eating out of Jaehaerys' palm, figuratively speaking. 

Meera and Arya had come up with a plan to ensure that Jon spent more time with his half-siblings, even if the girls themselves weren't feeling particularly filial.

Arya's note and the Bolton boy were instrumental, apparently. The words dung, powder, silk and blindfolds were effectively _non grata_ in Winterfell. i.e. After a pointless search that left everyone snappy; the real culprit was the picture perfect noble son sitting in the Guest quarters, none the wiser.

Lady Stark had a powerful set of lungs, all could testify.

This incident was the start of a beautiful friendship. From what Ser Arthur could gather, Domeric was particularly lonely and wanted a brother since his house and father's reputation kept most noble or smallfolk children at bay. A brother would alleviate it and they could have fun together. The fact that he was a page for his aunt, Lady Dustin, and yet, his closest friend was a stable boy who shared his love for horse-riding, instead of his cousins, Bryce and Brynden Dustins, was worth noting.

He had convinced his father to let him come to the feast when it wasn't mandatory for the heir to attend and Boltons were never safe on Stark lands. All in the hope of finding a friend or a little brother or a comrade or _something._

And the Old Gods answered. And he found a friend, a commander, a confidant, a partner in crime, _a King._ Not that he knew, of course.

Ser Artos looked at the pale Bolton heir , seated upon his pony and watching the servants prepare for their departure. They had reached the point of Barrowlands where the two camps will split.

The Barrowlands may as well be a smaller Riverlands with plenty of rivers and graves and tombs. It was only 2 days rowing away from Most Cailin, _if_ you knew the proper channels to navigate, the balls to face the turbulent waters and endurance for hours of rowing.

As the older boy saddled his small horse and made his way towards them, Jon and Arya both dismounted but Meera did not. Moments like these were both great and terrible to help root out spies; a servant way too interested in the scene, a steward dropping a box because he wasn't paying attention, a literate smallfolk with ink in his possessions.

Since the spies would be actively hiding/camouflaging from Ser Arthur, he had decided to recruit Meera to use both her childish innocence and mounted position to point out anomalies later. It was an interesting idea.

The horse's neighing brought him to the present and he caught the final statement.

"Ravens may be useless Lord Domeric but I promise you that I will find you that evasive small tributary that would allow us to meet and trainyogether." Jon's usual nonchalant tone was downright serious , determined—and jarrring. Arya nodded in approval. 

Domeric simply nodded and a small pleasant smile came upon his face before he realized and it was quickly squashed.

Words were not needed amongst brothers.

This, Ser Arthur understood, perfectly. From both his experience and observation.

A month of shared playing and talking and pranking later, even the shared social seclusion and a Bolton considers a Stark(or Snow or Targaryen) a brother. _Come to think of it, wasn't that what the maesters say about Theon "The Hungry Wolf "Stark and Rogar the"huntsman " Bolton.?_

2 moons later, Jon, Meera, Arya and Karan did indeed find the tributary and lost it when the river suddenly changed tracks. Dammit.

1 month later and Jon admitted they were where they began—worse, morale was at an all time law and they were forced to acknowledge that proper research is better than wildly ransacking the library.

3 moons later and Domeric Bolton was crying openly. Jon claimed it was a peace of flint in his eye and Dom didn't mock or tease. This was a result of six moons of effort, skirting around adults and placating and bribing angry sisters.

His friend was _here. He kept his promise ._ He realized that he was not the only one cherished their friendship. Jon had 2 younger brothers but they were far more sheltered and way less mature than Jon. He couldn't talk to them the way he could with Domeric, could he?

On that day, Domeric vowed to forever be a faithful friend and defend him from all and any dangers and provide a job for him when the time comes. He won't let his friend fade away or rot away.

* * *

Robert Baratheon, Eddard Stark, Jaime Lannister and Barristan Selmy were glowering at the kneeling— and bleeding man. The Lord Moron attacked the Seven Kingdoms when the Demon if the Trident still lived and had a new daughter to see to than see that ugly face if his. He just wanted this done as quickly as possible. 

Greyjoy Rebellion? Ned snorted. _More like Greyjoy whimper and need to be spanked._

The Iron Islands were a hard place to live in and produced hard people. Unfortunately, more often than not this resulted in embarrassingly stupid people, like their newly-crowned-and-uncrowned King.

He attacked Westeros without knowing the numbers, quality, quantity or alliances or damn near anything about the Greenland, as he calls derisively. The only successfull attack they had, had been masterminded by Euron Greyjoy, the crow's eye and led by Victarion.

The fool still refused to believe that the North had connected it's Eastern and Western shores and had a devastating new Navy. The same that smashed the Iron Fleet before the Redwynes or the Royal fleet can maneuver after being caught with their breeches down.

Finally, Balon bended that knee. At the end of the day, he was a father and still had a touch of affection for the youngest and only son he had left.

To Ned, it seemed like everytime he left the North, he came back with a baby or two. This time was no exception. He was sure Catelyn wouldn't be pleased.

She wasn't.


End file.
